Cat's Cradle
by Silvie-chan
Summary: There are many small pleasures in life these include rainstorms, warm fireplaces, and sleeping kittens.


Cat's Cradle  
by Silvie-chan

Disclaimer: I don't own FFX. The cat described in this fanfiction is based off of my kitten/cat/pregnant thing, Shizuka. All must love her, kthx.

Summary: There are many small pleasures in life rainstorms, warm fireplaces, and sleeping kittens. Beware weirdness and demented logic.

* * *

Yeah. I know I should be updating OFUS, but this just popped randomly into my head. I swear, I'm working on it!...I really am:shifty eyes: But anyways this is the sort stuff I'd usually be writing if I didn't have OFUS. Humor really isn't my gig, and I like psychological pieces better.

A note, before you read it: Seymour is supposed to be around twelve to fifteen years old. The references to school in Bevelle is because Jyscal sends him to boarding school there to get a SUAPH DUPAH EDUCATION, LOLZ.

...okay I'm done rambling now. Really.

* * *

"I've always wanted to have a pet," he whispered to the little kitten as he stroked it affectionately. "But Father would never let me keep you. He does not like cats. And how would I bring you to Bevelle? School starts again soon...and cats are never allowed there." The boy frowned slightly as he stared mildly at the sweet little half-grown calico cat on his bed.

It blinked sleepily at him; poor thing was probably bewildered. Just a few hours ago, it had been nothing but an alley cat scrounging for food. He had found it when he had snuck off to the Farplane to listen to the pyreflies. It had followed the strange boy, fearlessly padding through the Farplane with its tail held high as if it lived there. Which, in hindsight, it probably did when the weather was bad. It never rained in the Farplane as it often did in the city; if you did not mind the mindless shrieks of the dead, it was a very nice place to weather out a storm.

It had followed him half of the way home. Then, on a rebellious impulse, he had stuck it in his robes. He had never seen the use for the sweeping almost too-large robes he had been wearing since childhood; he thought they were terribly impractical and had mentally cursed the person who decreed that Summoners _had_ to wear them when he learned the words to do so. Fortunately, they had made the perfect place to smuggle a scraggly kitten in.

Since it was some time in the wee hours of the morning, nobody really noticed him sneaking a pitcher of milk and some meat scraps up to his room. And if they did, they kept silent; fearful of the wrath of both their Lord and his strange son.

Now, fed, warm, and content, the half-grown cat was stretched out on his bed as if it belonged there. And here he was watching it. He really did love animals, especially cats. Cats did not make a lot of noise, and they were easy to care for, once you learned their particulars. He really could not see why his father despised them so. When he was younger, he had pleaded that the servants tell him, but the two maids had just shared an amused glance before falling into a fit of giggles.

So, here he was, still not knowing why his father hated cats, with a little kitten of his own sleeping on his bed. It would be discovered immediately and he would most likely be in a lot of trouble when that happened. So really, he should let it go.

"I cannot let you back out there, though..." he mused unhappily. "It's too rough out there for a cat like you. I wonder how many fights you have gotten into?...life must be really hard for you, little cat." He used normal Spiran as a tiny jab to his father, a minute defiance against all of this; school in Bevelle, unsolicited interrogations about _what happened _all those years ago in Zanarkand, and many other petty grievances.

"Life is but a passing dream..." he whispered, half to himself. "...but the death that follows is eternal...are you tired, little cat?" He stared again at the cat. It sighed happily, purring loudly before its eyes finally closed in sleep.

He did not say anything else. He just gently snapped its neck, kissing the little head affectionately before sneaking down to the garden to give it a proper Sending and burial.

_**OWARI**_

And before anyone says anything, I love cats. I really do. I have two living with me, and I love them to pieces. Seymour just has a very weird way of seeing things.

Well, anyways. It's over now. Leave a review on your way out, if you would. :squiggle: Be it an OMG I LOVED IT review, or a OMG I HATED IT review, or one of those lovely rambling ones, I'd be absolutely delighted to know your opinion on it. With that said, I bid you adieu.

Silvie


End file.
